


Does My Medical Plan Cover This?

by DixieDale



Category: Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 05:19:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19823359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: A simple little mission to Norway results in some unexpected injuries, as well as a highly-annoyed Craig Garrison.  He's getting a little sick and tired of having to fabricate those reports out of thin air!  Then there was that puzzling note from the local museum director, which just made his head ache.   Frankly, he's pretty sure his medical plan doesn't cover all this!Takes place immediately after 'And Time Shall Not Diminish . . ."





	Does My Medical Plan Cover This?

Right after that rather bizarre affair with Major Galloway and those trumped up charges against Goniff, the guys headed out for a mission in Norway. Another one of those 'walk in the park' type jobs they kept getting handed, although this one actually seemed to have the potential for being just that. Just an easy con, a little switch, shouldn't be a problem at all, except for dealing with the occupying forces, but they were getting used to that handicap and had their own work-arounds. 

The mission itself was fairly simple - Getting on a friendly basis with Count Leonid Palfy, enough to gain entry into the Count's establishment. Supposedly, according to a report from a deeply imbedded undercover agent, somewhere among the Count's almost legendary art collection, there was a certain miniature by Jean-Baptiste Isabey, and contained within that miniature, perhaps under the frame or beneath the canvas, was a tiny piece of film. HQ wanted that film, wanted it with a passion, and so Garrison and his team were on their way to Norway.

So it wasn't exactly a simple 'walk in the park'. Well, they rarely had those given to them; frankly, Garrison was pretty sure those didn't exist, and even the ones that were promised to be that rarely turned out that way. This one was not impossible, certainly; hopefully was less fraught with danger than many they'd been on, even involved staying in a nice hotel and eating decent food, but it did have its complications, some foreseeable, some not so much. It was the latter that proved most interesting, and most challenging to account for in his final report.

Actor, in particular, had his work cut out for him. Oh, portraying rich, influential Ari Solzishkin, art connoisseur, indeed connoisseur of all the elegant, refined things that Count Palfy made a routine part of his life, was a natural for him. After all, Actor too was a connoisseur of such things.

Even the general description of Solzishkin was close enough - similar height, build, complexion and aristocratic features. Added to all that, Solzishkin was known for using various aliases, having used any number of identities in his gambling, speculating, womanizing adventuring around the world. He had even been known to affect simple disguises, or at least, to slightly change his appearance - glasses, beard, silver in his hair or lack thereof - all manner of things. If they ran into anyone who knew him from the past, well, as long as it was only a superficial encounter, it should still work.

One of the problems was, at least from the team's viewpoint, no one at HQ really had a clear idea of where Solzishkin was right now, and he'd been known to frequent Oslo, where they were to pull off this operation, on many occasions, even kept a pied-a-terre on the outskirts.

All HQ had offered was a cheery, "well, odds are against him showing up at the same time, wouldn't you say? Let's not go begging for trouble." 

Somehow, neither Garrison or his men found that overly comforting, and Garrison's suggestion that Actor go in as a totally imaginary character, though with decent credentials and a good story, was turned down hard. 

"Oh, for once, Lieutenant, just do as we ask, will you??!! We DO know rather more about such things than you, after all!!"

Considering the percentage of missions that seemed to call into question that little statement, Garrison opened his mouth to argue, but figured it really wouldn't do much good.

"Yeah, they got such a good handle on 'odds', maybe we should introduce those guys to a game of poker sometimes," Casino had snorted in disgust when Garrison repeated that cheery little admonition. "We'd clean up!"

Well, it DID actually work out rather well. Palfry had heard of, but presumably never met Solzishkin, (surely HQ would never have suggested they try this impersonation if the two men DID know each other!) and Actor had managed to establish an almost immediate rapport with the aristocratic grey-haired Palfy, a gentleman with an ebony cane and the dashing Van Dyke. 

(It probably helped that, if Actor had ventured to that small but elegant pied-a-terre owned by Solzishkin, the landlady, old Dona who had not been so old when he had first purchased the property, would have laughed and hugged him and welcomed him with a "ah, Ari, my dear boy! It had been too long! When are you going to return to us, eh??" No, that little detail was something he had not mentioned, nor did he intend to. However, pulling a con in one of the places he called 'almost home' DID make him feel uncomfortable, especially when using the same name he used when in residence. Although it was certainly a novelty, being compelled to impersonate HIMSELF.)

Taking along that lovely little minature by Nicholas Hilliard, borrowed (well, 'borrowed' by Goniff one lovely afternoon) from a local museum had been an excellent entree, Actor, as Solzishkin, taking it to Count Palfy to get 'an expert opinion' of a piece he had just acquired.

Yes, Garrison had suggested they needed something to tempt Palfy. No, he did not tell Goniff to go shopping; he'd made a perfectly polite and rational request to the Museum for a short-term loan, not of that piece particularly, but something of that general description, all in the interests of the war-effort. 

He wasn't at the Mansion when the indignant denial of his request for the loan of a miniature, something sufficiently intriguing, arrived, hastily penned by the Deputy Director, and the guys made sure he didn't see it or hear about it. That little shopping expedition had been Actor's idea, and they had no intention of explaining matters to Garrison til it was all over, had just smiled and showed him the lovely little piece, Actor telling him, "a lovely example of Nicholas Hilliard's work; it should be just the thing, Craig. Any museum, or any collector for that matter, would be proud to own it."

"Anyways, we're just doing it for 'is own good; don't want the mission to blow up just cause the guy at the museum's being silly, not thinking we're trustworthy and all. You KNOW 'ow important the missions are to 'im. Sides, we expect to be bringing it back, right?" Goniff had proclaimed cheerily when the guys were alone, after Casino had made a gloomy prediction of Garrison's reaction to the unconventional way they'd obtained that sweet little piece of bait.

"Doubt they'll even know it's missing; was in that little back room, kinda in the shadows. I switched out some trinkety piece from that reproduction place over on 'ambly Place; 'ad the same look to it, you know; 'ercules in near to 'is altogether, you know, probably 'ave some ole ladies ooing and ahhing over it in the meantime. Might be they even like it more than this one. Might be right upset w'en I switch them back, even. Might be we should even think about just letting it go, not botherin with a switch; might be a nice little addition to the retirement fund, ei? Worth a bit, now, aint it, Actor?"

All in all, the guys couldn't think of anything wrong with that plan; well, except for Garrison probably expecting to personally hand it over to the museum's director, which could be a little awkward, considering it hadn't been loaned out in the first place, AND there was some 'trinkety piece' now hanging in its place. Even 'misplacing' it along the way would be awkward, again, considering Garrison's insistence on doing things 'the right way', and would probably want to apologize profusely for losing something the museum had never loaned them in the first place.

Oh, well, they'd deal with all that when the time came. Unlike Garrison, they didn't feel like they had to have every little inconsequential detail ironed out before getting started on a caper.

Yes, the mission was going quite nicely, all according to plan. Later, thinking back over it, Garrison could, with all honesty, say that the disturbing incidents that had resulted in those injuries really hadn't been the fault of the plan or its implementation. No, they had been due to something quite different, though hardly something he would feel comfortable putting in the official report. More and more these days that seemed to be the case.

The first untoward incident happened on the fourth day, in, of all places, the lobby of one of Oslo's best hotels. Garrison and Actor had been on their way out the front door when there was a glad cry of "Baptiste! Darling!!!" and there was an elegant woman in a stunning blue outfit rushing forward to plant a warm kiss on Actor's cheek. 

"Marcella??!! My goodness, what a surprise!" Actor glibly replied, taking it in stride, casting a reassuring look at the apprehensive Garrison. Well, he obviously knew the tall blonde, and quite well it would seem from the coy looks and suggestive wink she gave the con man. Garrison faded into the background, still in the room, but well out of the limelight.

There was a back and forth of surprisingly affectionate chatter, when the little tete-a-tete was joined by a second tall blonde, this one with brown eyes, not blue like the first, and dressed in a deep sage green ensemble.

"Marcella, were we not . . . Antonio???? Ah, my darling, I have not seen you since that lovely time we had at Carnaval, what was it, six years ago? Ah, the music and excitement and passion of Rio during Carnaval! How you pleaded with me to join you, that nothing could be better than the week of the festival! The gaity! The costumes! The music! Remember? I was a flamenco dancer in the most gorgeous scarlet dress with black lace, and you were dressed as a toreador, all in black and silver! So dashing! How we threw ourselves into every experience offered!"

Another flinging of a lovely woman into those now rather tense arms, and from the wide-eyed glance Actor had just sent him, Garrison had a feeling this was about to turn nasty. Well, what with one calling him Baptiste and the other Antonio, it did point in that direction.

Marcella was now giving Actor a suspicious, almost deadly look. 

"You know my sister, Baptiste? Why does she call you Antonio? And Carnaval? Did you not tell me, during our lovely little sojoun at that lovely little resort outside Rio, that you absolutely abhorred the spectacle and crowds of Carnaval? That the noise was appalling, and one would only meet the lowest of people there! As I recall, that ALSO was six years ago, the week BEFORE Carnaval. When you had to leave, for business you said, even though I pleaded with you to stay with me!"

It went downhill rapidly from there, each woman grabbing one of Actor's arms, tugging him in a different direction. When they started comparing stories of their more passionate memories, it started getting a little embarrassing, and when they started disputing who he had been more passionate WITH, it got intense. It finally denigrated into an argument as to whether that 'adorable little mole' had been on their lover's left or right buttock, and that was when the handbags had started flailing. 

If Actor had just stepped back, then, or preferrably in Garrison's opinion, several minutes earlier, (maybe six YEARS earlier??), it might have been okay. As it was, Marcella suddenly swung that bag of hers at her sister's shoulder, Leona, the sister, squealing and ducking out of the way, Actor tried to grab the bag, or maybe Marcella's hand, and THWAPP!! Handbag and fist met an object that was not the intended target, and most effectively too!

So, at first Garrison was slightly amused. No, he didn't appreciate the nonsense in the middle of a mission, but the sight of Actor trying to juggle two women at the same time DID have its amusing aspects.

But his conman ending up with a broken nose, his eyes already starting to puff and darken? That wasn't so amusing, especially with him having to meet with that Hungarian count that evening. 

The count had so enjoyed 'Solzishkin's' company, he'd insisted on sharing a quiet evening with wine and talking art and music and much else. 

Actor had been quite pleased at how adroitly he'd managed to obtain that invitation from the aristocrat. Palfy had even requested Actor bring that little miniature back so they could compare the techniques used by Hilliard against those of the miniaturists Palfy collected. Yes, it sounded like a lovely evening, tailor made for snatching the Isabey miniature along with the film.

Now all that was in jeopardy. 

"Just how do you intend to explain this away??" Garrison fumed after he dragged the Italian out of the lobby and back up to their room to change into a shirt without blood on it, leaving the two blondes screeching at each other in true fishwife fashion, much to the interest of the other guests and employees.

Surprisingly enough it was Chief who came up with the answer once the situation had been explained to the incredulous crew sprawled over the furniture in the elaborate suite, an answer so obvious Garrison was shocked at its simplicity, wondered why he hadn't thought of it right away.

Chief explained, with an 'it's so obvious' shrug. 

"So, he tells this Count Palfy the truth. I mean, this character he's supposed to be playing is some big hot-shot ladies-man, right? So, if two women can get in a fight over Actor and him ending up with a broken nose, could happen to this Solzishkin guy too. What's that you keep saying? The best con is the one you where you can pretty much keep to the truth?"

Actually it had been Meghada who'd made that proclamation, but it DID seem reasonable, so they went with it.

So Actor met with the genial Count and ruefully explained the condition of his face. They shared a heartfelt man-to-man laugh, as it being something that could so easily happen to any real man of the world. Actor shared stories of those two weeks in Rio, one with one sister, the next with the other; the Count shared a few stories of his own, at least as disreputable. They also shared a quite excellent bottle of wine, then a glass or two of brandy, and during the course of the evening of studying the Hilliard, comparing it to the various miniatures the Count had in his possession, Actor substituted a very nice little copy of the Isabey miniature for the original. A lovely evening was had by both, and both ended the evening most pleased. 

Well, Actor was pleased by his obtaining the Isabey miniature and the film tucked underneath the frame, knowin the Hilliard was safely tucked away in his other pocket. 

Palfy, for his part, was quite pleased with his having been able to switch that lovely little Hilliard for the copy he'd rushed to obtain from his favorite copiest as soon as Solzishkin had shown to him. It was so rare when a mark, especially Ari!, just waltzed into his parlor with so little effort on his part!

He was sure Solzishkin would make him pay for that little hand-off, just as he had made his old friend pay for one or two other little such games in the past. Though, now that he had discovered his Isabey was no longer an original, he thought they just might be even. Until the next round of the game, of course.

***  
Getting back on friendly soil had taken a load off all their minds, though there were still some details to take care of. Friendly soil was one thing, didn't mean everyone walking around was all that friendly. After all, they weren't even back in London yet, their exit transport having dropped them off in Edinburgh with only a quick, "got orders elsewhere, Lieutenant. Some big-shot General just commandeered me and the plane. Sorry." 

Now they were awaiting transport, with a couple of days to kill in the meantime.

And Casino was worried. He was trying hard not to be, but still he couldn't help it. Yeah, he knew Chief had hit it off real good with those two agents they'd worked with before, Marie and Yves - seemed pleased to see them here in Edinburgh, both of them, though maybe especially the woman Marie. Pleased enough Casino got the feeling that Chief just might not be spending the night alone. 

Casino was okay with that, figured it was about time the kid saw some action without Casino or one of the others pointing him in the right direction and giving him a shove.

Trouble was, seemed to him that Yves, Marie's partner, a young man about Chief's age, was just as taken with Casino's friend, and yeah, Casino could read all the signs, and Casino was just finding that annoying as hell. 

Casino hadn't gotten close enough to get a real good look at either of them without their disguises, since they seemed to jump in and out of several different ones all through the job. The only consistent thing was that they were both dark, not fair, but according to Goniff, the only one who HAD seen them au naturale, they were both real lookers, even without the disguises.

Well, that wasn't his problem, or so he tried to tell himself; hell, as uptight as the Indian was most times, he doubted anything was gonna happen anyway, even with Marie, sure as hell not with Yves! Especially not on a job. 

Though, technically the job was finished. Would that make a difference? Probably not, not with Chief, the only member of the team almost as cautious about that shit as the Warden. Course, NO ONE was as cautious as the Warden. Now HIM Casino was in despair of EVER loosening up! Shit, you'd think he was a monk or something, unless a job called for something else!

They'd had dinner together, all of them, and gone their separate ways, with the usual strict orders to stay out of trouble. Goniff had elected to stay behind and order room service, even though he'd just finished dinner, and Garrison had rolled his eyes but given him permission, within strict limits. Actor had found a book in the library downstairs and wasn't interested in anything more strenuous. Chief had said he wanted a good night's sleep and intended to just crash. Casino had headed out for a little action, but had gotten back before ten from that little side excursion he'd ventured out on. For some reason it just hadn't seemed as appealing as it had earlier. So, she'd been a good lookin broad, a blonde even, but somehow he just wasn't in the mood.

He intended to see if Chief wanted to have a drink, maybe, but hesitated when he saw first one, then another good looking brunette ahead of him in the hallway headed in that direction. One male, one decidedly female, both dressed to kill. They looked a hell of a lot like he figured Marie and Yves looked like without all the makeup and wigs and stuff. Yeah, he had to admit Goniff was right; real hot, both of them. Just, where were they headed, each of them? He slipped back around the corner, feeling more than a little foolish, watching.

Another four people got off the elevator just then, and Casino had to appear all casual, leaning against the wall, checking his watch as if he was waiting for someone. He had to wait til they passed before he could check the hallway again, hearing the sound of multiple doors opening and closing. So Casino wasn't sure which of those two headed down the hall with such a pleased, anticipatory look, if either, had passed into Chief's room and which maybe into the room next door or one of the others, especially with those newcomers staying on this floor too. 

Still, thinking Chief probably wasn't alone anymore, that made him uncomfortable with the idea of knocking on his team mate's door, especially with that 'Do Not Disturb' sign now hanging on the doorknob, and he went back to his own room. 

At first he shrugged it off, had a drink from the bottle he'd located while he was out, then found he couldn't just ignore the possibilities, that it bothered him, a lot, not knowing who was in that room, what was going on. 

Hell, the Indian wasn't like Casino, didn't have the experience to watch out for the shysters and operators out there. Yeah, Marie and Yves were agents, but who the hell knew what else they were, and Goniff had said both had been flirting like crazy with the marks on that job. Probably doing a hell of a lot more, too! Shit, just look at his own team! Hadn't Actor and Garrison been doing the same??! Still . . .

By the time the morning rolled around, he was, as Actor would have proclaimed, "perhaps slightly on edge'. Actually, he was pacing and snarling. No sleep and too much booze could do that.

Still, he thought he had it all together, totally in control. Yeah, that was it, cool, calm, collected. No sweat, no bother. Though maybe he'd get Chief aside a little later, deliver a little cautionary advice. Might keep the kid out of trouble. Shit, come to think of it, shoulda done that a long time ago!

Heading for Chief's room, wanting to see if he was ready for coffee, he came to a dead stop upon seeing the highly-satisfied smile on the face of the handsome dark haired young man exiting his teammate's door, the jaunty way the other moved. The folded bills he was so smugly, so openly, slipping into the pocket of his black dinner jacket. His lips, pouty, perhaps a little swollen. He twitched the 'Do Not Disturb' sign off the door, tucked it into his pocket, and looked up to see Casino staring. A warm suggestive grin, a chuckle accompanied by a polite "a lovely day, isn't it?" and in that moment, Casino felt his control slip. 

Now, looking at the stunned looks greeting him when he pushed that door to Chief's room open - well, actually it flew open itself with the obstacle Casino had driven into it with one blow of his fist, said door slamming with a bang against the wall, while said obstacle landed on the floor in a crumpled heap, he knew he was going to have to talk fast. 

There was Chief, fully dressed, sitting in the windowsill sipping at a cup of coffee, Garrison and Actor in the process of pouring their own coffee, and Goniff investigating a platter of rolls and pastries on the small table. They all looked at the man on the floor, then at Casino like he'd lost his mind, and in that moment, Casino figured he probably had.

The sloe-eyed young man now sprawled on the floor was moaning slightly, and Garrison spoke cautiously into the stunned silence.

"Casino? Is there a reason you just cold-cocked our waiter?"

"Yes, Casino. I thought he performed his duties quite adequately, and even if he hadn't, surely a reduced tip would have made a sufficient statement," Actor offered, seemingly puzzled, though with an odd twitch to his lips.

The tall Italian was headed toward the very bewildered young man now clutching at his jaw, helping him to his feet, brushing him off, offering him a quick explanation of some drivel or other, along with a very generous fold of cash, in addition to the previous tip the man had been given. Giving Casino a totally confused and more than a little fearful look, the waiter left, hopefully to ignore, or at least not mention, what had just happened.

"Yeah, Casino," Goniff spoke up, with a wicked grin, a way too knowing grin on his face as he gave a sly glance over to a totally bewildered Chief. "If you didn't want any breakfast, aint like you're obliged. Poor bloke wouldn't a forced you to eat anything, you know. Doubt 'e cared all that much after 'e delivered it and got 'is tip. Fact is, me and Chiefy could finish the whole lot, easy enough, all by ourselves. Spent most all of last night casing a new operation, 'im and me. Even 'ad to cut short Chiefy's notions of maybe canoodling with sweet little Marie, I did, since you were nowhere to be found to back me up! Seems the Warden 'ad another of 'is brainstorms; can come up with those no matter w'ere we land, seems like. Looks like we aint 'eaded 'ome just yet."

Trying to process all the information so slyly contained in that seemingly artless monologue, though thankful that Goniff had been generous enough to clue him in before he could make things any worse (if that was even possible!), Casino swallowed heavily. Yeah, he'd just stepped in it, but good!

Casino heard shocked voices in the hall behind him, turned to see the two very attractive dark-haired individuals he recognized from the hallway the night before, one male, one female, obviously emerging from another room. They looked at the disheveled waiter slowly making his way down the hall, holding his battered jaw, then at Casino, rubbing his fist, their eyes wide with shock, and then scurried away. 

"I swear, Gina, I thought this was a respectable place! I would never have brought you here for our anniversary if I'd thought otherwise!" the handsome man was frantically assuring the highly indignant young woman.

Casino laid back his head and groaned audibly. Shit! Those hadn't been fancy evening clothes on the kid in the monkey suit, that was a waiter's uniform! That wasn't a payoff, it was a tip for delivering the breakfast!

No, this wasn't going to be easy to explain. Especially when you ruled out the truth, which he sure as hell intended to. Now, just how was he gonna get that damn fool Limey to keep his mouth shut! How anyone that dumb could see so much that you figured you wanted to keep to yourself, that was anyone's guess! He figured he'd be paying for this for a long time!

From the look in Goniff's eyes, that was one thing he could bet on!

Somehow, the odd look, one of dawning enlightenment, dawning anger, even outrage in Chief's dark eyes told him he might have a little payment in store there as well.

***  
The report Garrison filed had been interesting, Major Kevin Richards had to admit. Of course, he had the increasingly familiar feeling that this report, like so many others submitted by the young Lieutenant, was an inventive mixture of facts, near-facts, this-is-the-way-we-intended-it-to-happen's, and we'd-really-appreciate-it-if-you-just-pretended-it-happened-that-way's, and pure fantasy. One had to admit, Garrison really WAS very good at the process; it all blended together quite nicely. Perhaps the man ought to turn his hand to writing fiction after the war. Oh, well, at least the mission had been a resounding success.

He took another look at the injury summation. So, their experienced con man, Actor, the one so proud of his aristocratic looks, had received a broken nose. "Umm, that must have hurt, in more than one respect."

Their safecracker, Casino, had somehow ended up with the same sort of injury, broken nose along with a spectacularly swollen jaw. "Odd coincidence, that."

Goniff, their cheeky and rather annoying, if occasionally amusing, pickpocket, had sprained his knee again, and wrenched his shoulder. "That knee DOES seem to be a weak spot for him," Richards mused, wondering if that would eventually affect his usefulness on missions.

Chief, the team's wheel and knife man, had gotten off a bit lighter but was still nursing two cracked knuckles.

Surprisingly Garrison had made it through unscathed, except for his disposition, which seemed to be uncommonly surly for a man who had successfully pulled off a very tricky mission. He certainly hadn't been eager to take Richards up on the offer of a friendly drink, just crisply declined, gathered his men together (even more crisply and with an exceeding tight jaw), and headed off back to Brandonshire in a cloud of smoke.

Richards took another look at the list of injuries, then re-read the report. Odd, in a way, for a mission that should have held almost nil in the physical way those injuries would seem to point to. Most odd.

And back at the Mansion:

"Actor, if you couldn't control them, then you needed to stay out of the middle! You with a broken nose is like having Goniff or one of the other guys smashing his fingers! It puts the whole operation at risk!"

"And as for the rest of you!! I do NOT want to know what the hell that was all about! I'm telling you to talk it out, whatever it is, and get past it!"

"You realize how it would have looked if I'd put down the truth in that report??!!! The REAL reason we're on medical stand-down for at least a couple of weeks??!!!"

Garrison was on a real tear, the guys looking even more sheepish than usual at the dressing down, but with some low-level tension still evident between them. 

Sergeant Major Gil Rawlins frowned down at his copy of that report, wondering just what part was fact, which was fiction, and what Garrison was in such an uproar about. Of course, he knew almost all, if not all, of the reports were an interesting mix of fact and fiction, but Garrison was good enough at the telling that even Rawlins couldn't tell anymore, not unless some one pointed out the difference.

He didn't have to wait long, since Garrison hadn't quite wound down yet. The Lieutenant was pacing now, waving his arms, his voice pitched in a loud, very sarcastic tone.

"Yes, I can just picture it now, me explaining to Richards."

"Ah, yes, Major. The injuries. Well, that's rather amusing, when you come to think of it. Oh, you don't think injuries putting us on stand-down are amusing? Well, really, these are, actually."

"Actor's nose? You see, two ladies had a disagreement over who, some six years ago, had been primary in his affections, and whether the mole on his posterior was on the left or the right side, and started slapping at each other with their handbags, and his nose got in the middle."

"Goniff's shoulder and knee? Well, Casino took a swing at him. He missed, but unfortunately Goniff was standing at the top of a small flight of stairs at the time, and in trying to dodge, well, he lost his balance and . . . Oh, just some misunderstanding, something Casino though Goniff had said to someone else, though he really hadn't, but well, you know how that goes. Ha ha, just a little misunderstanding between friends. YOU understand that, I'm sure."

"Casino's nose and jaw? Well, for some reason, Chief took a swing at HIM a couple of times and connected. No, I'm not sure. Maybe it was partly because of Goniff, but I think maybe there was more to it than that. Maybe they disagreed about the hours at the zoo; I know there was something about a badger in there somewhere. Oh, yes, and that's where Chief got those cracked knuckles."

"Oh, during the mission? Oh, no, no injuries there - that went as smooth as clockwork!"

"Damnation, you guys!!! You are all going to drive me straight around the bend! And I'm damned sure my medical plan doesn't cover that!"

As he headed to bed, glass of whiskey in hand, he shook his head, wondering if he'd ever find out what had set them off like that, before deciding that he'd been right in the first place - he was just better off not knowing.

***  
"So, you really didn't . . ." Casino offered hesitantly.

"Well, acourse not! Didn't say a ruddy word to 'im. You may be a right idiot, and you won't find me disputing that, just in case you're wondering, but I wouldn't do that. Well, not on a job any'ow, though if you don't get your arse in gear once this is all over, I just might be tempted!" Goniff sputtered with indignation.

"Yeah, well, don't hold yer breath. Sides, you might not know as much as you think you do," Casino muttered sheepishly. He wasn't about to admit anything to the Englishman; bad enough what Goniff could seem to see, to pick up on, without that. "Anyhow, I'm sorry I took a swing at you, got you bunged up."

"Me too, though the sight of Chiefy laying you out cold was kinda worth it," Goniff snickered. Then he turned serious. "'E might not know the whole of it, Casino, but wasn't too 'ard to see w'at your problem was. Well, at least w'at you'd thought. Actor picked up on it right off. The Lieutenant maybe didn't, but 'e's got more than a few blind spots, you know."

***  
"So I apologized to Goniff, like everyone said I should. I guess you expect me to apologize to you too," Casino offered in a gruff voice, not making eye contact with the younger man sitting on the low garden wall working that sharpening stone across the blade of his knife. 

"Don't need no apology. Figure I made my point," Chief replied laconically, now stroking his knife across the knee of his pants.

Casino touched his nose, then his jaw. "Yeah, twice." He was watching that blade carefully.

Chief looked at him impassively, though the side of his mouth twitched as if he really wanted to let out just a trickle of a smile. 

"Wasn't the same point both times, though. Fact is, shoulda hit you a couple a more times, at least, just to finish the tally." 

He moved easily off the wall to come to a stand in front of Chief, tucking the knife back into his arm sheath.

Casino looked at him warily, wondering if he should back up a few steps, just in case Chief decided to finish the job.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. The nose was for minding my business. The jaw was for thinkin I was dumb enough to get caught up in some badger game. Still owe you one for hauling away at Goniff like that, when he didn't do nothing. He's a friend to both of us, Casino; talks to both of us, listens to both of us, sure. Does some mother henning now and again, he just can't help that, but he aint no snitch. Figure I owe you one or two more on top of that too. Maybe not, though. Don't know it's right to wallop you for just being blind, stubborn and flat-out dumb. I'm still thinking on that."

Casino stood still, his painful jaw wanting to drop, but the bruises not letting him go that far. "You wanna explain that?" he asked slowly.

Chief looked at him in resigned, if slightly amused, disgust, "naw, Pappy. You'll figure it out yourself or you won't. Don't figure you'll listen anyhow, not til you're ready."

Casino just stood there, stunned, watching as Chief started to make his way back up the walk to the kitchen. About four strides away, the younger man hesitated and turned back, and then blurted out what he'd not been sure he was going to say.

"Just - Pappy, next time you think I'm taking some guy into my bed? Not that I do, but if. Maybe there's some better way to deal with that than you swinging a fist at someone. Maybe you outta figure out what yer really so pissed off about. And, maybe if you don't want someone else there, you maybe outta give me a better alternative, ya know? Someone I actually give a damn about." 

Then Chief was gone, back to the Mansion. Casino, on the other hand, didn't move, not for a long time.

Finally, he shook his head, like he'd been caught in a rainstorm. {"Naw, the Indian couldn't have meant what it sounded like he meant! Like I should . . . That he would . . . . Naw, probably just meant I should . . . I shouldn't . . . Aw, shit! What the hell DID he mean???"}

Goniff, watching the discussion from a window above, wondered at the look on Casino's face. 

"Wonder w'at Chiefy said that made 'im look THAT way?! Looks like someone took a board upside 'is 'ead. Now, there's an idea! 'E don't take those ruddy blinders off soon, might just 'ave to give that a try! That or a brick. Brick would be easier to carry around, more convenient-like. Next time out in the garden, might just keep my eye open for a likely one."

***  
And when Goniff was ready to switch back those miniatures, though under protest, he took a long look, frowned and asked Actor. 

"Something seem a little off about this to you? Just don't 'ave the right feel, some'ow."

Actor had snorted, "really, Goniff, that is a perfectly lovely . . ." And, his eyes now working much better now that the swelling had gone down, he'd stared at the piece Goniff had placed in his hand, sat down at the round table and stared again, before raising a stunned face.

"It's a fake."

That got all their attention. 

"Hey, ya dumb Limey! You never noticed when you snatched it? And you, Beautiful, yer eyes weren't messed up then; how come YOU didn't notice?"

"No, Casino, you do not understand. What Goniff brought us was the real thing, I assure you."

"Then how . . .? Sheesh! Ya mean you got played?? YOU??? Shit, that's priceless," and Casino dissolved into laughter that brought tears to his eyes.

Chief picked up the small painting, quite lovely, and looked at it carefully before asking the most important question. "What now?"

Goniff shrugged. "They aint noticed it missing so far. Let's just leave it be. Probably come in 'andy down the road, you know. Save me 'aving to go shopping again. Not that I mind that, you know, but it's the principle of the thing. You know, 'waste not, want not'," he proclaimed, with a wonderfully self-righteous expression on his face. "Maybe the Warden'll forget all about needing to return it, you know?"

The glass of water Casino poured over his head seemed exactly the right response, at least from the expression on everyone's face.

Garrison chose that moment to walk in the door, stopping abruptly at the sight of his pickpocket sitting there, face scrunched up in distaste, hair wet, water running down his face and into his collar.

All eyes turned to the newcomer, who just stared, sighed, and asked, "do I want to know?"

Somehow he wasn't all that surprised by the rapid denials, and for now at least, he was content to leave it alone. Enough time later to tell them about the mix-up at the museum, the apology from the director at his deputy not totally understanding the urgent need, apologizing for not having loaned them the miniature he'd asked for, asking if he wanted it now, they'd have no problem loaning it to him. He'd thanked the director, told him they were good for now.

He wasn't sure where Actor had come up with the lovely little Hilliard he'd used, but he knew he owed the man a sincere thank you. By now, of course, that painting was back where it belonged, since it had served its purpose. He wasn't going to worry about it any more. 

"Probably borrowed it from one of his friends. He DOES seem to have his sources."

Heading to his office he paused and looked back toward the Common Room, remarking to himself, "they really are a good crew, even with all their nonsense. Maybe I'll treat them to a night at the pub. Once Goniff gets dried off."


End file.
